One of the most endearing experiences of natural light I’ve ever come across occurred last weekend, not far from Calais, France. A friend and I had some time to spare before catching our ferry back to England, and thought we should use the time to try and juice being abroad as much as possible, and see as much of it as we could see.

It was a Sunday, and most of France was typically shut beyond some vague signs of life at Cite Europe, a shopping estate reminiscent of a bunch of metal shipping hangars with an enormous car park where the painted arrows seem to have a mind of their own. We browsed around and found only a couple of uninspiring English-themed pubs and a Thai cafe – where we ended up ordering a quick snack from a very unobliging waitress – open.

It’s fair to say – after we finally received our food – that this experience wasn’t making us feel that we were making the most Frenchy use of France, so we took a look at Google maps and noticed an appealing streak of yellow on the coastline a twenty minute drive away. A drive there followed by a quick walk on the beach would then set us up nicely to get back to the port in time to catch our boat.

As we drove to Plage de Strouanne near the small town of Wissant, the enormous grey constructs of Cite Europe became smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror and were replaced with some of the brightest greens and blues I had seen in a while. The small village of Peuplingues that we went through en-route could have been right in the very heart of France, since it felt so far removed from the industrial environment we had been sitting in just a few minutes and kilometres earlier.

We were making our journey during that magical window of time just before the sun starts to set, a time when it seems to be saying to itself, “I know I’m about to disappear for a few hours, so let’s leave them all with a little parting gift.” The golden gloss it had lacquered across the French hills was accompanied by a rainbow that seemed to last for about twenty minutes. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a rainbow as close to a sunset before, but it was the most perfect fusion of lighting and colour.

When we reached Plage de Strouanne we parked up and followed the footpath towards the water, eventually working our way down a steep set of sand dunes to reach the beach itself. From here the panoramics were pretty incredible, and though the photos don’t do it justice, I hope they’re enough to make you consider taking a little detour here if ever you have some time to spare before catching a ferry from Calais.

No sooner had we driven away to make our way to the port, dusk set in, the blinding lights of the A16 no patch on the natural lighting we had just experienced.

We reached the ferry port, took it in turns to seriously believe we had lost our passports evoking much panic, and then ate far too many Kinder Schoko-Bons in quick succession to heal said panic before catching the ferry home across a pitch black channel.

It had been a detour well worth making, and I was strangely thankful for the fact everything else had been closed.

Song of the Day: Siriusmo – Gummiband

Sticking with a continental theme for this month’s post I’m sharing this track from Berlin-based electronic whizz Siriusmo.